Articles
The Case of the Missing Fingerprints

A few years ago, I decided to paint our kitchen cabinets. My wife suggested hiring a professional, but I brushed off the idea. After all, I had already painted every bedroom in the house. How different could this be? I would just sand off the existing stain finish and apply a nice, even coat of paint. Simple enough, or so I thought.
After two weeks of sanding and the loss of any visible fingerprints on my right hand, I was ready to paint. I meticulously wiped down each door to remove any dust and began to paint. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get a smooth finish. Every door I painted had brush lines. So, I sanded all the cabinet doors down again and got a different paint. This second effort failed as miserably as the first had. Once again, I sanded the painted finish off the cabinets.
I concluded that what I really needed was a paint sprayer that would not show lines. After many hours of online research, I bought the perfect paint sprayer. I sealed off the floor and walls in my garage to create a professional spray room. I put a spray coat on each of the doors and let them dry overnight. I was sure that I had finally conquered the project. When I viewed the finished product the next day, I noticed that there was a bumpy, uneven surface on each of the doors. Painting professionals call this orange peel.
By now, my wife was begging me to hire painters. I refused. How could I give up now? I had too much time and expense in the project to admit defeat. And my ego just could not withstand such a blow. I simply needed to figure out why I had orange peel and then correct that. After many more hours of research, I discovered a miraculous product called Floetrol that guaranteed a smooth finish. I purchased the Floetrol and more paint and sandpaper and once again sanded the cabinets down to the bare wood.
By now, the cabinets were starting to look a little funny from all the sanding and blood stains from my fingertips. The corners and edges had been over-sanded and were not level with the rest of the cabinet. I considered buying new doors but instead decided to give it one last try. My last effort was my best. The finish was actually pretty smooth. If it weren’t for the unlevel and over-sanded surface, the cabinets would, in a very dim light, look somewhat professionally painted. That is what I chose to tell myself. Now, whenever I catch somebody giving the cabinets a funny look, I just explain that it is boho chic.
There is an old saying that says to stop digging when you find yourself in a hole. But when you are halfway to the Earth’s inner core like I was with my cabinet painting, that can be difficult. I had so much time and effort in the project that, in the moment, it seemed unimaginable that I would give up. I can now look back with the benefit of hindsight and know that I should have thrown in the towel after the first couple attempts. But, when you have committed to a plan or strategy and invested substantial time, effort and resources, it can be hard to be objective. This is especially true for lawyers who are trained to be right and never give up. We develop plans and strategies to get the best results for our clients. We convince ourselves and our clients that we have a strong position. When it later turns out that we were wrong, we often find it difficult to abandon that plan or make adjustments, even when all the signs are telling us to settle, change course, back down, or admit defeat.
So, what is it that makes it so hard to stop digging and change course when representing clients? Psychologists explain it through a phenomenon called escalation of commitment. The term was first introduced by Professor Barry Staw in 1976. Through Staw’s research, he showed how individuals and organizations often continue to invest in and commit to a failing course of action because of psychological and social pressures. People do this even when all the evidence points toward failure.
Lawyers are particularly susceptible to escalation of commitment. I have been a victim of it myself (not just the cabinets) and have observed many attorneys fall prey to the phenomenon. There are many reasons why lawyers struggle with this more than most.
- Lawyers often tie their self-worth to “being right.” Admitting that we are wrong about a position or strategy can feel like failure and incompetence. That fear often prevents us from being objective. We let our ego control our decision-making.
- Clients depend on lawyers to be confident in asserting the client’s position. This expectation can subtly exert pressure on the lawyer to continue pursuing a strategy that is no longer in the client’s best interest. If we were to admit that our initial assessment was wrong, we might fear that the client would lose confidence in us.
- Lawyers are notorious people pleasers. When we are faced with the prospect of telling a client that we were wrong about our initial strategy or position, we worry that our clients will be disappointed. The client might express frustration with the fees that were incurred in pursuing the original strategy. Rather than face the anger and disappointment of the client, we simply persist in a losing strategy.
- Lawyers fall prey to the sunk cost fallacy. This is the phenomenon whereby a person is reluctant to abandon a strategy because they have invested heavily in it. I see this happen frequently in legal malpractice cases. A plaintiff’s lawyer commits substantial time and expense to a position that later is shown to be without a legal and/or factual basis. Rather than accepting a reasonable settlement or dismissing their client’s claim, these attorneys press forward to their client’s detriment. Parties on both sides incur needless costs and expenses.
- Lawyers sometimes fear that, by admitting a mistake or changing course in the middle of a case, our reputation will be damaged.
- Lawyers are often overconfident. This can interfere with objectivity and sound judgment.
- Sometimes it is the client’s escalation of commitment that interferes with the best course of action. When a client digs in on a failing position or strategy, the lawyer may feel pressured to bow to the client’s wishes. This rarely ends well for the client or the lawyer.
So, how do you avoid escalation of commitment? Organizational psychologist Adam Grant suggests adopting the mindset of scientists. Test your assumptions, invite disconfirming evidence, and change course when the data demand it. For lawyers, this can mean scheduling regular case reviews with colleagues and clients, asking clients the hard questions about whether a strategy still aligns with their goals, or simply giving yourself permission to say, “I was wrong, and we need to adjust.” Far from weakness, this kind of intellectual humility has the capacity to build trust. Most importantly, it is what is in the best interest of the client.
Another practical strategy to avoid escalation of commitment in your representation is to follow Barney Fife’s advice. Nip it. Nip it in the bud. Don’t wait until you are six feet down in the hole before you have a discussion about changing course. Talk with your client before you ever start digging. At the outset of your representation, explain to your client that your strategy and position is based on what you know at that time. Make clear to the client that circumstances can change, requiring a course correction. Explain that new evidence might be discovered or opposing counsel might raise defenses or claims that were not anticipated. By having this conversation up front, your client will be more receptive down the road if you need to make adjustments.
In the end, painting my cabinets taught me more about psychology than home improvement. What started as a simple DIY project became a masterclass in escalation of commitment. It was a reminder that persistence, while admirable, can also trap us when pride, ego, and sunk costs take the wheel. Lawyers face this trap in their work every day. Our training tells us to persevere and fight for our clients no matter what, but wisdom sometimes requires us to stop sanding and course correct. The courage to shift is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of maturity, humility, and sound judgment. Clients don’t want boho chic representation. They want wise and sound counsel from a confident lawyer who is not afraid to change course when the circumstances call for it.